The smell of bacon as it’s crackling and “poppin” in the morning takes me right back to being a kid. We would travel to my grandparents house in Asheville, NC for long weekends to visit my Dad’s parents. My grandfather Poppe was the best home cook I ever knew and would make a breakfast spread every time we were up there. Scrambled eggs, biscuits, sausage, fruit from the garden and a whole lotta bacon. When you’re 10 years old, a hearty breakfast is more preferred than any Michelin stars.

It’s a lot of Poppe’s inspiration that carries forward in my kitchen today. Just this weekend my wife went and bought some bacon for Father’s Day, which took me right back to the carefreeness of being too young to realize that there are any problems beyond how to treat mosquito bites.

Bacon may not be good for the heart, but is sure is good for the soul.